Tomorrow I will be nicer.
I will say the nice things.
I will see you, really see you.
I will do the stuff that bores me so I can please you.
I will smile and hold your hand,
even though I want to swing my arms freely in the breeze.
Tomorrow we will sit under a tree,
in the sun, and scoff cake and imbibe sticky drinks.
And I will admire the sun in your hair;
your curls so golden and soft.
Tomorrow I will understand
that tomorrow needs to be Exquisite.
Needs to be today.
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